


Asylum

by Alyke_diAngelo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asylum, Creepy shit, I don't even know how i gave birth to this shit, John worries about sherlock, Just read, M/M, Non-con sheriarty ahead in the story, Pretty Dark Stuff, Sherlock is submissive but it's for science, hope you like it, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyke_diAngelo/pseuds/Alyke_diAngelo
Summary: In the late '800s , Sherlock Holmes receives a note from an old acquaintance and he has the golden opportunity of his life to finally close a count that has been open for far too long, even if this means putting in great danger not only his life, but also his best friend's one. Will Sherlock Holmes and doctor John Watson be able to stop the dark threaten from the detective's past once and for all?-------------------------------------------------Contains graphic description of rape (chapters 4-5), blood, wounds, violence and others, discreption of the reader has been warned





	1. Prologue

It was a dark, foggy evening in London, the newspapers from the day before slightly wet for condensation of water.  
Doctor John Watson was walking down the streets, his mind wondering about the rare case of high fever he had that morning at work.  
When he arrived home, that evening, he found a note attached to his front door, from Mrs Hudson, his best firend's landlady. He ran back outside and headed to 221b Baker st, where he lived. Sherlock Holmes. The detective.  
He walked fast on the pavements he knew so well and reached Baker st in about fifteen minutes, almost panting in worry and anticipation.  
John knocked on the thick wooden door, anxiously waiting for the lady to let him in.  
When Mrs Hudson opened the door, she hugged him so tight he almost choked, but she pulled away soon enough for him to see the tears wetting her eyes.  
-Oh, John, I'm so glad you came... He's been locked in his flat for three days straight now, he hasn't eaten, drunk or got out... Please help him, you're the only one capable of doing that... He won't let me in...- she paused for a moment, looking the doctor straight in the eye. -john... please... you're the only one who can move him...-  
John nodded slowly and approached to the stairs, looking back to Mrs Hudson just once before actually stepping on the first step and started going up the stairs. he stopped walking right on the doorstep, already scared of what he could have found behind that door.  
He pushed away the thought of Sherlock using again and softly knocked on the door, discoverong it was unlocked, opening it slowly.  
The detective was lying on the floor, eyes open wide and staring at the ceiling completely focus less.  
John's heart skipped a beat, as adrenaline started rushing through his body and the oxygen in his brain started consuming way faster than normal.  
-SHERLOCK!!- He cried, when he got the got the strength to move his body again, running onto him.  
-Sherlock please, tell me you're okay...- he was checking the other's heartbeats, insanely slow...  
After a couple more calls, Sherlock finally started responding and his heartbeat came back to something close to normal. He wasn't really capable of answering properly, he only managed to murmur something but John knew him and the detective's eyes spoke for him; they were wet and implorant, the light shade of the iris almost melting in the red of the irritated corneas.  
John helped him up and carried him to bed. He took care of him; he fed Sherlock some bread and dry food, held him a glass of water, changed his dirty ( and frankly rather smelly, God only knows how long Sherlock had had them on) clothes and put him in his bed, rolling the sheets up.  
Sherlock was lying on the bed, John sitting next to him, when he spoke.  
-John...- he muttered. - I'm not sure I can make it this time... John noticed his eyes getting wet again and adjusted himself on the bed.  
He shook his head, then asked what Sherlock meant by that.  
\- Moriarty...- said the detective in his baritonal voice, looking at the ceiling.  
-er... Sorry, who?- John asked, confused.  
\- professor Jim Moriarty... It's a case I had along time agoo,before we even met. Ten years ago, I found a net. A deep, murderous net of killers and criminals, guided by a mayfly man, a crazy, psychopathic mayfly man. Jim Moriarty. It's then I started using. That one is the case that drove me mad. And he's back, John. My archnemesis.-


	2. Chapter One

SHERLOCK POV 

-What...? No, Sherlock, people don't have arch nemesis... They have... Sure they have people they dislike, people they're disliked by, people they love... Friends, best friends, partners... Surely not arch nemesis... - John said, chewing his own words on the way.   
Sherlock looked at him straight in the eye. -Don't they? - He asked with a deep, almost scary, voice. John shook his head, wetting his lips with his tongue, itching in curiosity. -so then.... What happened so bad it drove the great Sherlock Holmes mad? - John asked trying to keep looking as calm as possible.  
Sherlock sighed as he sit up straight, then spoke, in his baritonal voice. -I have spent whole years trying to catch that man. His one was a clever strategy... Very clever indeed... He always let me close enough to catch him and he his again, making my work worth nothing at all. I know he was smarter than me. He was way ahead of me and he had an advantage I had no possibilities to win on. - He sighed again. - I gave up the case. It's been awful, John. I still hear his voice laughing at me, panting and chanting "What, Sherlock? You're not clever enough??"...- Sherlock cringed.   
John approached to him on the bed - And why are you so upset about it now? - Sherlock's face got even darker and he spoke after a long silence that got John rather worried. - Because he's back John- and raised his gaze onto the doctor's eyes. - I found him... Actually he contacted me...it was a letter, a note. When I came home four days ago, I found a broken window and a brick, with this note tied on it. - He took a raggedy piece of paper out of the pocket of his robe and handed it to John, who opened it and read it out loud – Did you miss me? What the hell does this mean? - Sherlock was still staring at the wall in front of him, blankly. – It’s a trap… - he mumbled out loud. - And he already knows I’ll fall in. He knows… JESUS, AFTER ALL THIS TIME HE’S STILL AHEAD ME! - Sherlock Shouted, his voice cracking on the way, while he punched the mattress under him, stubbornly.   
John felt, for the first time in a very long time, scared. Just looking into Sherlock’s eyes, full of rage and hate, a sparkle he hadn’t seen since he went to the war. That feeling of mixed fear, rage and need of relief, he felt it again and it burnt like a reopened wound. John called out for all the self control he was capable of, as he muttered a weak – please, Sherlock, calm down… please…-   
Sherlock was shaking; the scary amount of inputs in his mind was driving him insane. He really needs to stop Moriarty, yet he knew that it would have meant putting the lives of all his friends in danger, and he couldn’t let it happen.  
***   
It took Sherlock a couple of days to sort everything out and make up his mind about what he should have done, but he eventually came up with a decent plan.  
During these days, Watson had moved in with his detective friend at 221b Baker st, just to be sure he was safe and to keep an eye on him, yet they didn’t really speak much about the whole Moriarty issue. Probably it was only John’s way to let Sherlock’s brain work by itself.   
.Even if Sherlock was pretty sure his plan was almost good, he was sure John would have hated it. But there was no other way.   
Sherlock was lying on his bed when he thought this, so he stood up and slowly walked to the kitchen, preparing to give John the best speech of his life, hopefully.   
John was sitting in his armchair, reading the newspaper and sipping some tea from an old cup they hadn’t used in ages.   
Sherlock only said his name, but it was enough to make john turn to him with a strange sparkle in the eyes, eyes of somebody who had been waiting for that moment for a painful amount of time.   
-John…- Sherlock swallowed and wet his lips. – John, I made up my mind about the Moriarty issue, and I came to the conclusion that there is only one way to stop him, once and for all.-   
John made his usual, confused brow, slightly bending his head to the left. –Go on…- he just said, man, he knew Sherlock was about to do something really stupid, dangerous or inappropriately silly. – I must get as close to him as I can, I must let him have fun; that’s what he’s looking for, making fun of me. I must let him do it, John, I must.-   
Just like that, Sherlock spit everything out, leaving John utterly confused. It was not confusion, though, more like a mix of fear, disbelief and sadness.   
-wait so you are… Exactly how are you going to do that, because you know, I don’t really see sadistic psychopaths having fun down the streets torturing people…-  
Sherlock grinned, glad that john hadn’t gone all mad at him yet.   
-well, I’m glad you asked, Watson. I made some researches and found out Moriarty’s actual position. Now, before you ask me about it, just know I’ll be safe and I have everything in control-   
Sherlock sighed, as he looked at John waiting for his announcement. – I am going to penetrate into an asylum, under cover. He is there. This is the only we can meet directly. And a wise choice, if I may say, as every psycho-like phrase can be covered by the excuse of the same hospitalization.-  
He noticed he was talking too much, and John looked rather shocked.   
The moment froze for a bunch of seconds, in an awkward silence where only John slightly moved, looking around in disbelief. Sherlock was already rather sure that John would have taken it as a joke, when he heard his gasp.   
-you are going to do WHAT? Do you have any idea of what this is about? It’s a serious issue, Holmes! Real people with real illnesses live there, you could hurt them and you could hurt yourself! What if he wants to kill you and not just, as you say, have fun, uh? What then? You’d die, Sherlock! For real!-   
Sherlock knew, he knew John needed him alive at least as much as he needed John alive. Although this was his golden opportunity, he couldn’t just waste it.   
He analyzed all the possibilities in a couple of seconds, calling out for all the speed his brain could work at, then spoke.   
-John... You can come with me if you want to…- Sherlock looked down at his feet and silently hoped for a no as a response from his friend, despite statistics was against him this time.   
-oh you can bet I’ll come with you, there is no way I let into that situation alone.- john almost sounded angry, but Sherlock knew it was just his coping mechanism.   
John sighed – Sherlock, I’ll come and keep an eye on you and that other man; I can pretend I’m a doctor who’s been moved there. If it’s the asylum I’m thinking of, I know somebody who can help us…-  
Sherlock clenched his fists, he needed to protect john from Moriarty, though.   
He abandoned these thoughts, reminding himself to solve them later.   
-okay… so…- he muttered, still not looking John in the eyes. – go to sleep, we’ll talk about it tomorrow? - John suggested.  
-Okay, good-   
-Good-  
Like that, they just started walking two different ways, without a word more.   
Once in his room, Sherlock couldn’t stop thinking about his upcoming plan: he had no time to waste and it needed to be perfect in every detail, everything had to be in its exact place, for him and for John. 

 

JOHN POV  
When Sherlock walked away, John’s head was a mess. Why was Sherlock so attached to that criminal?? I mean yes, he had been the cause of his addiction to cocaine in the past ten years but apart from that? Was there anything else his friend was hiding? Why would he put in danger not only his own life for something like that? That’s twisted.  
Anyways, he found himself wondering about the reasons why he actually said he wanted to follow him into his suicidal mission… why did he? Probably just because he wanted Sherlock to be safe, and he trusted nobody. 

That night, Sherlock almost didn’t sleep at all; he spent hours trying to solve the puzzle of how to beat Moriarty without putting in excessive danger his life or John’s. 

When John woke up in the morning, Sherlock was playing the violin.   
It was a violent melody and the first thing John noticed was the painful expression Sherlock had on his face; his forehead was so frowned he was barely recognizable. He had never seen that face before. This must have been a real serious matter, and John suddenly felt responsible for him. He was, after all, one of the only friends Sherlock had, and John couldn’t let him start using again, not after he had seen him getting better in so little time...  
He decided to leave Sherlock (who probably didn’t even notice him getting in) alone with his music and walked in the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.  
He suddenly felt happy about the tune Sherlock was playing, the harmonies pleased his senses even if they were slightly dissonant, but he finally got to comprehend what Sherlock meant by “Enjoy every single dissonance” and it was a very nice feeling indeed.   
Right when he was about to tell Sherlock about his thoughts, the music stopped abruptly and the musician was staring through the window, thinking about god-only-knows-what.  
John sighed and put the scrambled eggs into a dish, walking onto him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos/comments if you liked :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it, new chapter will be uploaded soon❤


End file.
